Dragonlove
by Spontaneous Me
Summary: Keylí hates dragons more than she hates Thread. So what happens when she becomes a candidate for the Hatching, and actually Impresses a queen? Nothing bad, I hope. . . . Rated T for some action and violence to come. Discontinued for some much needed TLC, will update as soon as I feel like I can do the series justice. :)
1. In the Event of a Hatching

Keylí was in a giant field, surrounded by spectators oohing and aahing over the latest events. The Hatching. The most talked about event in the weyr, in the Craftholds, everywhere! Boys dreamed of Impressing a bronze day and night, girls fantasized about becoming a Weyrwoman, the highest post in all of Pern. It was an honor to be a candidate in the Hatching.

Keylí hated it.

_Stupid dragons_. Keylí thought. _Stupid dragonmen. Stupid eggs, stupid Weyrwomen. . . _

She stole a glance at F'lynn. At least her brother was happy. He had been dreaming about this moment his entire life and there he was, stroking the biggest bronze dragon that had hatched today. Keylí wished she shared his love of the beasts.

A loud crunch directed her gaze to the large golden egg in the center of the room. She forgot about the hot sands biting into her feet. The crowd around her hushed like a door had closed in front of them. A young girl next to Keylí whimpered in fear and Keylí pulled her close, trying to comfort the terrified girl.

A flare of anger coursed through Keylí's body. What did they think they were doing, those Weyrleaders? Half of these girls were too young to be partaking in such an event.

The egg teetered, and to Keylí's horror she could not keep herself from watching. A crack as large as her hand split the egg in two and the scaly body emerged. Immediately several girls screamed and backed away. Keylí pulled the girl closer to her body as the dragon advanced. The dragon locked eyes with the small blonde, but Impression did not occur. Instead the golden body launched itself, claws extended, at her. Before Keylí could move the girl out of the way the dragon had ripped the front of the white dress, scratching her. Blood stained the perfectly white cloth. The girl screamed in pain and fell to the floor. Struck with a sudden rage, Keylí swatted the dragon away from the girl.

"Stop it!" she cried.

The crowd gasped. Several of the spectators stood, a horrified expression on their faces, ready to stop the Hatching at moments notice. F'lynn stared at her, his dragon forgotten. But Keylí only had eyes for the queen advancing toward her. She felt herself being drawn towards those bright eyes . . . No! she thought, tearing her gaze to the girl beside her. I will _not_ Impress! She sent thoughts of pure hate and malice to discourage the beast.

As if sensing her refusal the dragon moved closer, those eyes boring into her soul. Horrified, Keylí watched as the dragon crawled into her lap, all the while staring at her. She felt a mind pressing against hers. _No! No! No! _Keylí wrenched away, tears streaming down her face. The dragon followed. Keylí stumbled toward the wall, determined not to let the dragon speak. _No! I won't do it! _She ran not from fear, but from denial. She would not, _could not _Impress a dragon. _No! _she screamed in her mind. _Go away! _

Finally she collapsed against the wall as the dragon approached her. Keylí flung her arm over her eyes. The dragon curled against her chest, nuzzling her way to Keylí's face.

Softly, but strong, Keylí heard a voice in her head.

_My name is Dawn. _


	2. Flaaaaaaasshhbaaaaaaaaacckk!

"This is outrageous!" the stinging cry rang throughout the hall. "If she didn't want to be chosen she wouldn't have come!" the speaker slammed his fist on the table for emphasis.  
Felessan looked to his father, who had sat through the whole debate saying nothing. Finally he spoke. "I don't suppose we can do anything at the moment. Dawn has spoken and we can't change her mind."  
T'bor turned on him. "Oh, F'lar, surely you can't leave a half-crazed dragonwoman loose in your weyr!" he said.  
"I won't. She must grow with her dragon if this is going to work."  
"I will gladly take care of her," T'ron spoke from the end of the room. "She won't get into any trouble in my weyr." several weyrleaders murmured in agreement.  
"F'lar, you could send her to Southern, nobody would hurt her there."  
"Maybe we should separate the two."  
"That might work, but what of the queen? The girl would be all for it, but the dragon might grow irrational. You saw what happened to Prideth."  
"I'll take her to my weyr, Jordan would love to work with her."  
"I say we kill them both. Would save us a lot of trouble."  
"You're mad, T'bor."  
"Maybe so, but I'm the only one who's made sense so far."  
N'ton snorted.  
"ENOUGH!" F'lar's shout shocked the weyrleaders into silence. Felessan leaned forward, eager to hear his father's response.  
"Nothing will be done with the girl. As I said before, bonding with her dragon is the only thing we can do right now." F'lar said.  
"But you can't-" T'bor protested.  
F'lar whirled on the man, only his eyes betraying the anger inside. "I don't need you telling me what I can or cannot do. This is my weyr. Anything that happens behind these walls is under my jurisdiction. Nothing will be done with the girl."  
T'bor shifted uneasily in his seat. "Only a fool would leave such a person unsupervised in their weyr."  
"Of course she will be watched. Perhaps Lessa will agree to keep an eye on her. I'm sure the two would get along quite nicely." F'lar said, his voice more confident than he felt.  
The weyrleaders said nothing. Inwardly, Felessan laughed. They all knew what Lessa was like.

Keylí sat in her new quarters, listening to the click of Dawn's claws on the floor. She was barely twelve hours out of the egg, and already she was two times her original size. Keylí turned back to the window. Not for the first time today she wished the dragonmen had not claimed her. She stared at the Weyr below her and the fields beyond.  
_Twelve turns earlier. . . _"Keylí! Time for dinner!" the call resounded throughout the hold, directed at a little girl perched in a fir tree. The six-year-old jumped out of the tree while the sound of tearing fabric was clearly heard. Keylí ignored it and ran for the row of houses at one end of the hold. Keylí tore through the doorway and into her bedroom, taking only a second to wipe her feet on the mat. Mother turned from the table. "Keylí," she said.  
Keylí froze. I'm dead. She slowly turned around, revealing the long rip in her skirt.  
Mother sighed and wiped her hands on her apron. "Let's go, find a new skirt and leave that one in my room." she said.  
Sheepishly Keylí did as she was told. Just as she sat down at the table there was a pounding of boots on the mat and a hearty voice calling out, "What ho, is this numbweed I smell? I'm glad I was gone all day."  
"Daddy!" Keylí leaped out of her chair and into her father's arms. He held her tight. "How's my little Rascal today?"  
Mother set the stew on the table. "She ripped another skirt today." she criticized, but there was a twinkle in her eyes.  
"Ho, ho, looks like someone doesn't get dinner."  
"But Mother made Chicken today! And Chicken is my favorite!" Keylí cried.  
"Well, we might have to let it slide just this once-by the way, where's F'lynn?"  
"Sitting down, like Keylí's supposed to if she wants her Chicken." Mother replied.  
Keylí hopped into her seat, squirming when the scent of delicious Chicken reached her.  
Dad rubbed his hands together and sat in his spot at the head of the table. Mother served the meal and one-year-old F'lynn gurgled in his highchair. Keylí was about to take her first bite when the sound of screams and explosions pierced the air. Dad rose and strode toward the door.  
"F'lan wait," Mother called, but Dad ignored her. He opened the door just as a ball of fire catapulted through the doorway.  
"Daddy!" Keylí screamed.  
Mother grabbed her hand and carried the crying F'lynn out the back door. They ran down the street.  
"We're under attack!" someone cried.  
Fire was everywhere. Those who weren't burning were desperately forming bucket brigades, unsuccessfully trying to put out the fires. When one house was cooled, another would burst into flames. Smoke filled the air. Keylí couldn't breathe. She gasped for air as they ran across the hold.  
Mother ducked behind a barn to catch her breath. "Keylí, take F'lynn, run to the woods and don't stop." she said. Tears were streaming down her face but her voice was calm.  
"But what about you?"  
"I'm going to help."  
"Mommy-"  
"Stop. I will be fine," her voice trembled "find another hold, get somewhere safe."  
Mother kissed Keylí and held her close. Suddenly she shoved Keylí away. "Go!" she cried.  
Sobbing, Keylí ran. She turned back. Her mother was just a silhouette against a flaming background. She raised her hand in farewell. An explosion knocked Keylí to the ground and F'lynn screamed.  
"Mommy!" Keylí cried. The barn was a crater in the smoking ground.  
Keylí struggled to her feet and grabbed F'lynn's hand. Trees were just ahead. They were so close. . .


	3. Dragons are a Boy's Best Friend

_Present day:_ F'lar rubbed at his eyes as Lessa strode into the room. "So," he asked wearily "how did it go?"  
Lessa threw him a look but settled into the chair beside him. "What, that stubborn wretch?" she snapped. F'lar smiled. "Looks like you two have much in common." he said.  
Lessa looked at him and sighed, resigning herself to her fate. "She is a stubborn, cold, harsh human being who doesn't know how to care about herself. She sits on her window chair staring into space like I don't exist. She only talks to say 'yes ma'am' or 'no ma'am', if she says anything at all, and her gaze is that of ice." her tone softened. "She is hurt and broken. In more ways than one." she paused.  
F'lar gestured for her to continue.  
"I talked to her brother, F'lynn, one of the newest bronze riders. He doesn't know his parents. They've been moving from one village to the next, never staying in one spot for more than a Turn. They have no family or friends. They're practically one of the Holdless. Keylí's so used to taking care of F'lynn that she doesn't know how to do anything else. . .It's horrible, really."  
"What do you suggest we do?"  
Lessa cocked an eyebrow. "What's this? The all-knowing weyrleader of Benden asking for a suggestion?" She sneered.  
F'lar held up his hands "Don't look at me that way. I know nothing when it comes to females."  
Lessa snorted.  
"Well?"  
"You were right in the meeting. We can't do anything until she bonds with her dragon."  
"Maybe we should send her to Southern." F'lar sighed.  
"And what, give another weyr our problem?"  
F'lar shrugged.  
"We could send her to the kitchens. Give her something to do. Something that will keep her mind off whatever it is that's bothering her." he said.  
"Somehow I don't think that will work."  
F'lar stifled a yawn, not too successfully. "What is the time?"  
"About six hours until dawn."  
"I'm going to bed. Let's think on this in the morning."  
"You used to stay up all night working out a problem."  
F'lar smiled wearily and put his arm around her shoulder. "I'm not as young as I was then."  
"That's true." Lessa smiled back.  
Outside on the ledge, the great bronze dragon Mnenemth watched as the light in his rider's room went out. He settled down to sleep, gratefully closing his golden eyes. He wasn't getting any younger either.

* * *

Felessan ran down the hall, anxious to find Jaxom, Lord Holder of Ruath and his best friend. Jaxom's white dragon, Ruth, bellowed a welcome from the ledge.  
"Hello Ruth!" Felessan called.  
_Jaxom is at the feeding grounds, helping with the weyrlings._ Ruth said.  
"Thanks!"  
Felessan barreled around a corner. . .and straight into a person. Keylí cried out in surprise as she tumbled to the ground.  
"So sorry. Terribly sorry, miss. . ." Felessan helped Keylí to her feet. Keylí brushed off her dress and nodded her acceptance. Felessan inwardly shuddered before her cold gaze. Dawn chattered behind her, her hide freshly oiled. At least Keylí wasn't that heartless. It was terribly uncomfortable for a growing dragon to have cracks in their hide. Felessan watched as Keylí strode away, seemingly ignoring her queen. He shrugged and took up running again, though this time more watchful for other human beings.  
The feeding grounds was broiling with activity as the newest weyrlings were instructed on the feeding of their dragons. Jaxom was easy to spot, tall and square with dark hair, he stood out from the weyrlings like a sore thumb. As Felessan strolled closer he could see him talking to one of the weyrlings. . .F'lynn, he remembered. F'lynn was eagerly absorbing all the information he could and from his attitude, was probably etching Jaxom forever in his mind.  
". . .never let Ryder gorge. It's not easy to fly on a full stomach. Hallo, Felessan!" Jaxom called.  
Felessan nodded. "How's Ryder this fine morning, F'lynn?"  
F'lynn's eyes lit up with a renewed excitement that Felessan could relate to. He could never get over talking about his dragon either.  
"He's in tip top shape, sir!" F'lynn exclaimed, a little too loud for Felessan's taste, but that was expected.  
"Don't call me sir, F'lynn. Felessan is just fine."  
"Yes sir-I mean Felessan, sir. Sorry, sir."  
Felessan sighed with exasperation. Jaxom laughed.  
"We were just discussing the importance of not gorging." he said. "Come on, F'lynn. Tell us what you know."  
F'lynn took a deep breath and began rattling off information on proper feeding schedules, gorging wasn't a good idea, it gave Ryder a stomachache the first time he tried it . . . As he talked Felessan's smile grew wider. He could remember feeling exactly like F'lynn does now. When F'lynn finished his long account of Ryder's first buck Felessan laughed.  
"Talkative fellow, aren't you?" he rumpled F'lynn's hair. "Good job, F'lynn. You'll make a fine dragonman."  
F'lynn beamed. From across the field L'ytol called all the weyrlings in.  
"Excuse me, sir, Felessan." F'lynn addressed the two riders. "Come on, Ryder!" he called. A small bronze dragon galloped from a pile of bones freshly picked clean. Felessan and Jaxom watched as dragon and rider raced each other to the line of weyrlings. Felessan grinned. "Wasn't long ago we were that excited." he said.  
"He's so much different from his sister." Jaxom noted.  
"Oh, you met her too?"  
"Yes, and she's as cold as winter and just as un-likable."  
Felessan laughed.  
Jaxom turned serious. "You wanted to see me?"  
"Ah, yes." Felessan started walking back to the weyr. "F'lar want's an account of the last month at Ruath Hold."  
"Oh, that's easy. First week, nothing. Second, nothing. Third, nothing, last week-"  
"Let me guess, nothing."  
"Actually, no. The Masterharper came and held a week-long lesson for the apprentice harpers."  
"I remember when he left for that."  
"Nothing but repeating chords and poems for an agonizing seven days."  
"Being a Lord Holder must be so horrible. Having to endure such torture day and night, it looks absolutely exhausting."  
That was not true, for Jaxom looked like he never missed a moment of sleep. He was bright and energetic and in fact, looked better than Felessan himself did.  
"It has it's moments."  
Felessan laughed.  
As they neared the weyr two dragons, one bronze and the other white, rose from the ledge and circled above the two friends.


End file.
